


Festival of Hearts

by BeneaththeHalo



Series: Courage Magic Strength [10]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Exhibitionism, Mpreg, Multi, Outdoor Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:18:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeneaththeHalo/pseuds/BeneaththeHalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their participation in a druid festival with Merlin has consequences Arthur and Gwaine could never have foreseen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Festival of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for the slight lateness and the ending that turned out NOTHING like I intended, but sometimes life likes to throw curveballs at you that have to change your plans, doesn't it? I hope you enjoy this fic anyway! :)
> 
> Day #10- Doggy Style

 

Merlin's involvement in druid festivals had never been an issue for Arthur and Gwaine. They knew what he was to the druid people: Emrys, their protector, saviour and teacher, the most powerful sorcerer ever to walk the earth. And Merlin _enjoyed_ being a part of the festivals. It gave him a sense of kinship, kept his magic happy, and stopped him from feeling like he was going to go insane from all the politics around him. Whatever made Merlin happy, made Arthur and Gwaine happy.

Until he told them they had to be part of this festival, that is.

"Us?" said Arthur. "We are not druids, and we have no magic, Merlin."

"But you have my heart," said Merlin. "Which, apparently, makes you required at this festival. I told them you would likely not want to participate. They said if I was there, the two of you would have to be. And they do not want me absent." Merlin sighed, watching the fire dancing merrily in the hearth. "I don't want to be absent. I _need_ to be at this festival."

"I'm not so sure I want to be there," said Arthur guardedly.

"I don't particularly like the druids calling me 'Lord Emrys', but I have to put up with that, don't I?" Merlin said shortly, and Arthur and Gwaine knew they were fighting a losing battle. "Please, you two. I never ask that much of you; can you just do _this_ for me?"

"We'll be there, Merlin," Gwaine promised, and Arthur sighed, knowing the battle was lost. He _wanted_ to support Merlin, he really did, but he was still rather wary of the druids. A lifetime of his father drilling it into him that druids and all those who practiced magic were evil was always going to have lasting effects.

Merlin, as attuned as he was he was to Arthur's emotions, took the king's hand and clenched it tight. "They're not going to even _try_ to hurt you, Arthur," he promised. "Not if they want to live to see another day."

"I've never heard you so incredibly passionate before, Merlin," Gwaine commented. "Not since the day you fought Morgana."

Merlin shifted where he sat between Arthur and Gwaine, feeling strangely uncomfortable. "I don't know. I feel... weird. Like all my emotions, everything, is _amplified._ I don't know why."

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked quickly. "You don't think you've been cursed, do you?"

"No, no," said Merlin quickly. “Do you forget who you’re talking to, Arthur?”

“The same person who would- and has - willingly consume poison and take curses for both me and Gwaine,” said Arthur.

“Yes, but I would _know_ if I had been cursed, Arthur,” Merlin assured him. “Some part of me would know that.” Merlin shifted again, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Gwaine pulled Merlin against his chest where he rested, letting out a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure what this is. It’s just _growing_ over the past day or so. Nothing’s _wrong_ , so don’t you two start. I think it's a magic thing. I feel like it's _right there_ under my skin, like it wants to break out. Or it's waiting for something."

"We'll figure it out," Gwaine promised. "In the meantime, let's sleep. I'm sure we'll need it."

 

The festival took place the following night, when the moon shone high and bright in the sky. That strange feeling had built within Merlin, to the point where he had to remain silent so he didn't get too emotional or say something he would regret. At the same time, he stuck to Arthur and Gwaine like glue, but he could not bring himself to touch them. He feared if he did, he wouldn't be able to let go, and he wouldn't be able to _stop_ himself. Arthur and Gwaine watched Merlin warily, for any sign that something was wrong, but they saw none. It was almost like he was overcharged with energy.

When the trio emerged into the clearing where the festival was to be held, they found the druids already gathered and waiting. The people turned to face the three newcomers, all of them bowing when they realised one of the men was Emrys. Merlin inclined his head in return and asked them to rise quickly; he hated being bowed to. He always had.

Iseldir, the druid leader and a good friend of Merlin's, came forward to meet them. "My lord," he said, inclining his head toward Merlin.

"Iseldir," said Merlin. "You know you don't need to bow to me. And don't call me 'my lord', either. It's just Merlin."

"Of course, Merlin," Iseldir said, even though he would have conveniently forgotten by their next meeting. He turned to Arthur and Gwaine, inclining his head to each of them. "Your majesty. Sir knight. It is good of you to join us. It is good of you to be here with Emrys."

"It's _Merlin,_ " Merlin corrected automatically.

"He wanted us here, so here we are," said Arthur. "Although..."

"Is something wrong, Pendragon?" Iseldir asked.

"Merlin's been acting rather weird- weirder than usual- over the past few days, and claims to feel strange. He _says_ nothing's wrong, but Merlin does have a tendency to lie about that,” Merlin glared at him, but Arthur ignored it.

"Your beloved is fine," Iseldir assured them with a smile. “Because of the incredible magic he possesses, he’s feeling this stronger than everybody else. This festival affects every druid who has come of age.”

“Affects them _how_?” Arthur asked cautiously.

Iseldir didn’t answer, but Merlin didn’t need him to. He knew; he could _feel_ it. The way his magic crackled beneath his skin, reaching out for Arthur and Gwaine, to bring them close, to touch them, to make them _his_ as he was theirs.

Breathing heavily, Merlin reached out for the two men he loved, his hands closing gently around their wrists. “I need you,” he whispered, and they understood.

“Do you see now?” said Iseldir. “This night for us, for all of our kind who have found their heart, is so precious. It solidifies how much you two mean to him; how much he loves you. Emrys’s words have never been more true. He needs you tonight.”

Arthur and Gwaine both looked at Merlin. Molten gold was dancing on the edge of his eyes and his whole body was tense, as if it were waiting for something. As if it were waiting for Arthur and Gwaine.

“I must leave you now,” said Iseldir with a smile, his gaze drifting away. “I do believe that is _my_ beloved over there.” And Iseldir walked away, leaving the three men alone.

Silently, Merlin led Arthur and Gwaine away, through the gathering of druids that had thinned since they arrived. The clearing they found was spacious, more than enough room for the three of them, and _surrounded_ by trees.

“You _really_ want to do this here?” Arthur asked cautiously.

“No one will interrupt us,” said Merlin, sounding almost breathless already. “These places are enchanted; I can feel it in the air. You don’t have to worry about being interrupted, Arthur.”

“The purpose of this festival is literally to have sex?” said Gwaine, confused. “Not that I’m complaining, or anything. Because I’m really not.”

“I know you’re not,” said Merlin, rubbing his thumb over the inside of Gwaine’s wrist. “And it’s more about affirming how you feel about the person- or people, in my case- who has your heart. At least that’s the impression that I got.” Arthur, though he was _wanting_ , was still wary. Gwaine, however, had that easy _grin_ on her face that had made Arthur and Merlin fall in love with him in the first place.

With a smile at Arthur, Merlin began to strip Gwaine of his clothes, helping him to his knees as he went. “You just want to watch first, don’t you, my lord?” said Merlin. And it was true. Arthur _loved_ to watch, almost as much as he loved being with them himself. There was no more beautiful sight to Arthur than watching Merlin pushing into Gwaine as he moaned and bucked frenetically beneath him.

Merlin muttered a spell, and Gwaine let out a gasp as he felt a tendril of magic reach inside him, stretching and preparing. Gwaine dug his fingers into the earth beneath him as Merlin positioned himself, feeding his prick into Gwaine’s entrance with little resistance. The cry of relief that came from Merlin was accompanied by gasps and breathy moans from Gwaine as Merlin fucked into him, somehow hard and gentle all at once. Merlin _needed_ this, had never needed it more, and he loved how easily Gwaine took it, as if he was literally made for Merlin to pound into like this.

Merlin moved harder and faster, his eyes focused on Arthur, the king unable to look away from the two men he loved. The sight of them coming together was one that Arthur _adored_ , and he couldn’t draw his eyes away.

Magic crackled in the air around them as Merlin slowly pulled out of Gwaine, pressing his lips to the knight’s perfect, perky arse. “Love you,” he murmured.

“Love you too,” Gwaine whispered back, that customary post-sex gleam in his eyes. “See, Arthur? It’s not that bad. I’m pretty sure the druids wouldn’t care _that_ much if the King of Camelot was having sex in their forest. And Merlin _needs_ you, Arthur. He needs both of us tonight. I could feel it while he fucked me. I could _feel_ how much he loves me.” Gwaine wasn’t wrong. This time with Gwaine, during this festival, made Merlin feel more _alive_ than he’d ever felt. But he needed more. He needed _Arthur_.

Arthur sighed, but then he smiled, shedding his clothes before Merlin could even reach him. “You know I can never say no to you,” he said. Merlin was on top of him in seconds, eyes ablaze, using the same spell he’d used on Gwaine, and instantly driving himself in to the hilt. Arthur _rode_ him, giving as good as he got, bucking up into Merlin even as Merlin drove himself into the king.

Merlin came a little before Arthur, crying the king’s name like a mantra. He then sank to his knees, exhausted, and Arthur and Gwaine were instantly by his side. “Merlin? Are you okay?” they both said, panicking.

“‘M fine,” Merlin promised. “I’m just tired. Strangely tired.”

“Merlin, you better not be lying to us,” Arthur warned.

“I’m not. I’m _really_ not,” Merlin promised. “I’ve- honestly, I’ve never felt this good. I can’t even describe it. I love you two. More than anything.” He kisses Gwaine’s brow, and then Arthur’s, and they smile at him. More than they could ever express, Arthur and Gwaine loved him too.

 

It is over a month later when Merlin discovered both Gwaine and Arthur slumped in Arthur’s chambers, lifeless, Arthur leaning against the bed and Gwaine near the fireplace.

“Gods,” Merlin gasped, crouching beside Gwaine, who was closest, but the knight didn’t stir. He tried Arthur next, shaking him furiously, but the king was just as lifeless. “Wake _up_!” Merlin cried, throwing all his magic behind his voice, and finally the two did stir.

“Merlin…?” Arthur whispered, trying and failing to push himself to his feet. “What happened? Where’s Gwaine?”

“I… I’m here,” said Gwaine weakly, not even bothering to open his eyes. “One minute we were talking, and the next, I was dizzy and ill all at once, and…”

“You passed out,” Merlin finished. “Both of you. This isn’t normal.” He stuck his head out into the corridor, sending a guard scurrying for Gaius, before propping the two men on pillows from Arthur’s bed. Merlin hovered over them, not sure which one to go to, frantic and troubled and _scared_ all at once. “Merlin, stop _fussing_ ,” said Arthur weakly. “We’re fine. Stop being such a _girl_.” His hand fluttered strangely over his belly, as if by instinct, and Merlin stared at him. Exactly like Arthur, Gwaine’s hand was fluttering over his own belly as well.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Gaius arrived. He examined both men, both showing identical symptoms, both coming on at the same time, and almost _froze_ when he realised what the only possibly could be.

“ _Pregnant_?” Merlin gasped, unable to look either of his lovers in the eye. “Both of them? Is that even _possible_?”

“It is incredibly rare, but it is indeed possible,” Gaius admitted. “Men can only be impregnated by a certain group of people.”

“Magic users,” Merlin realised with horror, finally looking at Arthur and Gwaine. The two men were staring at him, still not fully understanding. “Druids. On only one night of the year.”

“The _festival_ ,” Arthur released, his hand clenching into a fist. “ _That’s_ what this festival was really for?” He was angry, now, and Merlin glared at him.

“Hey! I didn’t know what the festival was about!” Merlin exclaimed. “All I knew was I _needed_ to have you right then and there! I hadn’t even _heard_ of the festival before that night. How was I supposed to know what the end result would be?”

“Merlin is right,” said Gaius cautiously. “There is only one who can explain this properly.”

 

Iseldir arrived before nightfall, striding straight into the king’s chambers. Both Gwaine and Arthur were in bed now, and Merlin had not left their side. He’d fussed over them, kissed them, touched them, but both men appeared to be shocked and embarrassed. How could the King of Camelot and his strongest knight be _pregnant_?

“There is no way to _terminate_ these children, if that is what you are wondering,” said Iseldir on arrival. And yes, you are most certainly pregnant.”

“But… but how?” Gwaine stammered, Arthur still too shocked and angry to speak. “We’re _men_! We- we don’t have the necessary parts to _conceive,_ let alone carry and give birth to a baby!”

“You may be men, but you are men who own Emrys’s heart,” Iseldir corrected. “And many man fall pregnant on this night of ours. It is how I myself was born. You are not the only ones who did so this time around, either.”

“But I am _king_!” Arthur cried, finally finding his voice again. “I cannot carry a child! I have men to train and a kingdom to run, and I must train myself!”

“And I must train too!” Gwaine butted in, as if to be sure he wouldn’t be left out.

“You two, please!” said Merlin, panicking. “All this yelling and fighting is only going to hurt the babes.” To Merlin’s utter amazement, Arthur and Gwaine immediately fell silent, looking panic-stricken, and their hands went to their bellies, already slightly round with child.

Iseldir looked at Merlin, then. “I am sorry for keeping this from you, Merlin,” he said sincerely, and Merlin was struck immediately by the use of his real name. “I did not mean to deceive. When the time comes, though, for the king and the knight to deliver their children, I will be here. There is a way to do this where no harm will come to anyone.” And then Iseldir was gone, leaving Merlin, Gwaine and Arthur alone again.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered, looking away, his eyes downcast and full of guilt. “This is all my fault. If I had known…”

“You would’ve felt that drive anyway,” said Gwaine. “This is _no one’s_ fault, no matter what Arthur might be thinking right now. We can make this work, and we _will_ make this work. I _want_ to do this.”

“No one will take me seriously,” said Arthur, pouting. “I’m going to be _huge_! How can I train the knights? How can I train _myself_?”

“You’re not the only one carrying a babe, Arthur,” Gwaine reminded him. “And you need to shut up. Merlin already feels terrible enough as it is.”

“Sorry,” Arthur whispered.

“However this happened, accidental magical conception or not, this is happening,” Merlin reminded him. “We are having children together.”

“No harm will come to my child, or Gwaine’s,” Arthur promised. “You will not have to worry about your young ones’ safety, Merlin, you have my word.” Arthur sighed, rubbing his belly over and over and over, before looking Merlin dead in the eye. “You have nothing to fear, Merlin. We are doing this, however unhappy I am being the one to carry a child.” Gwaine pushed Arthur with his shoulder, and the king amended himself. “I’m sorry, _we_ are carrying children.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin whispered, tears shining in his eyes. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“I know I won’t,” said Arthur. “I know _we_ won’t. But Merlin?

“If this ever happens again, _you’re_ carrying the baby.”

 

 

 


End file.
